Time to Heal
by Horizon Gus Watson
Summary: They thought that with time they would heal. But they couldn't do it alone. They were all broken in their own, weird way. It seemed like there was no way out of their problems and miserable lives. But what they didn't realize is that the only one who can help them heal is a certain 'green' scientist. T rated, probably no pairings. I don't own Avengers.
1. Prologue

**A/N: Hello there! Just a short author note before I begin. First of all, I apologize for all the mistakes I might make. Also, I want you to know that I might not update this story regularly. Due to all the obligations I have, such as school, real life and other, I might update this once in a month or even once in two months. Yes, sometimes I will update every week, but for now it will go slow. So bear with me please. **_  
_

**And now without further delay, onto the chapter.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Avengers.  
**

* * *

_Prologue_

_It's hard to be left behind..._

_It's hard to be the one who stays..._

_It's hard to keep the masks on and pretend that everything is okay..._

_It's hard to live, to love, to breath._

_It's hard..._

_..._

_Time can't heal all the wounds. The wounds remain, but with time, the mind protects us from that pain with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it's never gone._

_They thought that with time they would heal. But they couldn't do it alone. They were all broken in their own, weird way. It seemed like there was no way out of their problems and miserable lives. _

_But what they didn't realize is that the only one who can help them heal is a certain 'green' scientist._

* * *

Clint was sitting at the roof of his building, with his legs swung over the edge of the roof as he observed the night that was falling over the city and slowly enveloped it.

The light autumn breeze ruffled his hair, bringing various scents into his face. The moon was slowly making its way to the sky as the stars peeked out and settled in their usual places to shine over the town. Down, on the streets, the lights of traffic and billboard commercials were providing enough light as the whole city kept its usual flow.

A small frown formed on his face as he watched people running around, cars moving and everything just passing by, not even stopping for one second to just watch.

Deep in his mind and heart, he was hoping that someone would stop and see him. See his broken soul, lost in suffering and agony, and that someone will help him out of it. That someone will be his only hope, light at the end of the tunnel and force that is pulling him away from destruction.

But no one noticed. Everything just continued flowing, not paying any attention on the broken soul watching over them.

So what else could he do than to suffer alone.

Alone, in the darkness of his room with his own demons destroying every sign of hope he had deep down in his heart.

Alone, where the only company to him are the dreams that keep reminding him of all the awful things he did, lives he took and hearts he broke.

He could only close himself into his shell and try to cope with it.

Try to survive a day... a week... a month.

And just breath...

In.. and out...

_In... and out..._

**_In... and..._**

* * *

His eyes narrowed as he stared at the small trail of light under his T-shirt. The dimmed, blue light that was there as a reminder, as his savior, as his only hope for tomorrow.

...

Tony Stark was everything but normal.

He was cocky, yes. He was rude, egocentric, selfish, he didn't work well with people... But at least he could call himself a human.

Now, he can't even do that.

So what was he?

A robot? A mutant? A monster?

He didn't know the answer.

All he knew was that he was sick and tired of his pathetic life. He was sick of those faces that were pretending to be his friends, he was tired of keeping the smile on his face when he wanted to mourn... He was sick and tired of life he led.

Of a life that was nothing but a facade, a show they all played without emotions.

A shaky breath left his lips as he noticed his hand moving towards the arc reactor absentmindedly. It was an instinct, a habit.

He would always wonder what would happen if he would pull it out and never put it back.

He was a man of science, so he wanted to experiment.

His fingers wrapped around the reactor and he took a short breath.

_Just for a little while..._

_Just to see what would happen..._

**_*Click*_**

* * *

Another lighting shot across the sky, tearing up the clouds and lighting up the dark night.

The storm outside was just a little piece of what he felt inside, of what he kept away from others.

It never seemed to stop. That endless fight with yourself, your feelings, thoughts and 'what if's'. It played in his head over and over again, and he still couldn't find all the answers.

_Were you doing the right thing?_

He hoped he was. The sense of duty was strong and he hoped that he had made the right choices.

_Wasn't it you duty to look after your brother?_

It was, and he failed miserably. He didn't see what was wrong, he was occupied with having fun, more than he should.

_Was there a way for you to prevent that, see it before it actually happened?_

Yes.

And there it was. His problem, the thought that kept him awake for nights, made his whole gut spin and his guilt come to surface.

He should have seen it.

He should have noticed that Loki was going crazy, he should have been there for him, to pull him out of that, to help him see the light and that he was loved and that he can love.

That he had someone to take care of him, to love him and support him.

_So why didn't you do that? What happened? _

He honestly didn't know.

He had no answer for many questions, but this one was making him sick, making him suffer.

Another lightning tore the sky, but he didn't even wince.

He just stared at his hands, seeing all the blood on them. The blood of the innocent who died that day when his brother brought his rage to them.

And all that was needed was for him to pay a little more attention.

Just a little more attention.

**_Just a little more._**

* * *

_Spin, kick, dodge... Duck, kick, punch, move to your left.. Jump to your right, kick, punch, duck..._

Her red curls jumped up and down with her as she spun around, sending punches into the punching bag. Her breathing was shallow, her eyes were red from lack of sleep and her knuckles were bloodied from the constant kicking. Her legs were shaking, her shirt was soaked with sweat and her hair was messy and glued to her face.

She was a complete mess.

But not only on the outside. She was pretty much in the same state from the inside.

Except that's something others couldn't see.

She collapsed on the ground, her legs finally giving up after seven hours of constant training. Her every muscle was screaming from pain, but she welcomed the burning feeling.

That way she didn't feel the emotional pain she tired to hide for so long, tried to mask it with whatever she found.

She was trained to hide those kind of things, but at night, the Black Widow was alone. Alone, scared, defenseless.

Weak.

The nightmares of her past would hunt her, the guilt would burn her heart and the feeling of being useless and weak would keep her awake for nights.

And no matter how much she tried, she couldn't shake it off.

The fear of being a failure.

The fear of losing, of becoming weak... of returning to her past self.

Her heart slowly returned to it's normal pace, and her eyelids slowly closed as darkness enveloped her vision.

She didn't want to close them, but she was too weak to protest, as usual.

She was simply too weak, and it was a fact. To her is was a fact she should accept.

Her breathing became slower and slower, and soon she passed out from exhaustion.

She passed out into the darkness and emptiness, and for a second she asked herself what would it look like if she never wakes up.

_Would I be happier?_

_Would everything be better without me?_

_..._

**_Would someone miss me?_**

* * *

The door of his apartment opened and he stepped inside, holding a helmet in one hand and carrying some groceries in other. His blue eyes were sparkling and a small smile graced his lips.

He was met with painful silence and his good mood immediately fell as he stepped into the small, empty and cold room, closing the door behind him swiftly and without noise.

He stared at the empty living room with dimmed lights and little things in it. It was almost empty, with only a few items that were necessary for him to survive.

Nothing more, nothing less.

A sigh escaped his lips as he observed his flat.

He was all alone. He knew no one, he had no family, friends...

_Friends..._

_Bucky..._

He shook his head, trying to stop the pictures of his dead friend to haunt his head and bring him more nightmares.

But it was too late. He was already too deep in it.

The pictured of Bucky and Peggy filled his mind, and he let a shaky breath out, collapsing on the sofa and resting his head in his hands.

Silent sobs shook his body as he took a deep breath and removed his hands, revealing the baby blue eyes with no tears.

He cried all the tears he could. He had no tears left, and the only thing he could do was stare at the distance with a lost look in his eyes.

With a look of a man who has no idea where he is, where he belongs and what he did to get there.

A look of a man who had no personal dreams, hopes and sometimes even thoughts.

The look of a man who is haunted by the past and lost friends and love.

He took another deep breath and stood up, moving to his kitchen to make a cup of tea. Passing by his night stand, he brushed an old photograph sitting there, but paid no more attention to it than those two seconds.

He just brushed it of and moved on, with his eyes giving away his emotions.

_**Emotions of a man who refused to let go of the past because that it the only thing he has left.** _

* * *

Staring at his own reflection for hour was something he would usually do at night when he had nightmares.

He would stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom, with his hands on the sink and his eyes staring at his reflection. His tired eyes would wonder around his reflection, observing every little detail, searching for something, anything.

He would stare like that for hours, wondering what would happen if he made different choices. Who would he have by his side, would he be the same? Who would love him, hate him, know him? Would he be happy or would he be miserable, like he was now?

He would remember Betty. Her eyes, smile, touches and kisses. Their time together, dates, sweet words, laughter and promises.

He would remember his mother. Her carrying voice, hugs and warmth, the way she cared for him. The way she hugs him, comforted him and gave her life for him.

But then he would remember his father, the abuse, smell of alcohol and blood pouring from his wounds. He would remember General Ross and all the guns and weapon pointed at him. He would remember fear, anger, lies, disappointment, betrayal and pain.

And then he would noticed the change in his reflection. His eyes would become green, his skin would have that faint green reflection and his muscles would tense.

He could always feel the other guy sitting just a little under the surface, waiting for his every slip.

After some time, or rather after the whole Loki thing, he noticed that the Hulk calmed down and left him with more control.

But it still wasn't enough. He was still a monster, a mistake, a failed experiment.

No matter how much he wanted to change that, he couldn't.

His eyes took one last glance at his reflection and then he moved outside, darkness of the night absorbing him as he stood at the balcony and stared into the sky.

He couldn't stand looking at his reflection anymore.

**_Because the only thing he would see was the green in his eyes and skin._**

* * *

"Sir, the whole 'Avenger' thing isn't working as we planned"

"How so?"

"They are falling apart, Sir. They are isolated from the world and team. They are not bonding and they certainly don't look or act like a team."

"... Then we will have to do something about it, won't we, Agent Hill?"

"...Yes, Director Furry, we will have to..."

* * *

**A/N: Hope you like it. Review and let me know what you think.  
**


	2. The unpleasant news

**Chapter 1 : The unpleasant news _  
_**

It's been a week since the invasion. The town started recovering from the massive destruction, the news kept talking about the group of heroes who saved the world and everything seemed to continue flowing like nothing happened.

The ones that lost someone dear to them mourned, but soon that mourning passed and they continued living, patching their lives and making their best effort to fix what could be fixed. Everyone did something to help, to give their contribution and to help the so-called Avengers after they helped them greatly and saved the whole world.

At the outskirts of town, in a small motel that was at the edge of crashing down and turning into a pile of rusted metal and woods, Bruce Banner woke up that exact morning.

As soon as the sun appeared on the horizon, and when the first sunlight hit his face, he stirred and his eyelids opened slowly. He stared at the ceiling, trying to adjust his eyes to the light that only became stronger with every passing second. He blinked for a few times and examined the room with his eyes careful and calculating.

When he recognized the place he was currently living in, a frown escaped his lips.

Another motel, another small, dirty room for him to live in...

No, to survive in.

Because the life he led couldn't be called a life. He only did what he had to to survive and to make it though another day.

He sat up lazily, rubbing his eyes and trying to wipe out the sleep from them. The dark circles were forming under his eyes from the lack of sleep as the horrible nightmares haunted him every night. No matter how many of them he had or how many times they repeated themselves, he still couldn't get used to them. No one would.

He brushed his hand through his dark locks and with an emotionless mask on his face he proceeded to the bathroom to start yet another monotone day.

The months passed and his day fell into the same routine: take a bath, brush your teeth, eat, read newspaper and start some dull research on the non-existing or rather pathetic equipment.

And no matter how much he wanted to change that, how much he wanted to get out of that life, to live, to breath!...

... He didn't believe he deserved it.

He believed that he deserved the suffering and nightmares. That it was his way to pay for all the lives he took and all the places he destroyed.

That was the only thing that kept him from changing something in his life.

He was snapped out of his thoughts as the phone rang, it's ringing echoing through the silent room. He placed the mug filled with tea on the table and lazily moved towards the phone, looking rather skeptical about it.

"Hello?" He whispered hesitantly as he picked up the phone, waiting for the person on the other side to speak.

"Dr. Banner, we need you to come in."

He immediately froze as he recognized the voice on the other side of the line and almost dropped the phone at the seriousness of the other man's tone.

Nick Furry

* * *

"Sir, why do you need me? Is there another invasion?" Steve asked in a slightly panicking voice as his eyes examined the city for a few seconds. He was currently in his apartment as he had just returned from the morning jog.

He searched for any sign of threatening chaos and alien invasion, but as nothing was seen, he shifted all his attention on the person on the other line, still tensed and alarmed to a certain degree.

"No, Captain, there is no invasion. However, the Avengers need to have a meeting." Fury's stern voice was heard from the other side and Steve relaxed only a tiny bit.

He wasn't happy to admit that the whole 'Avenger' thing was too much for him.

Trying to fit in, in the world, was hard, but trying to fit in with a group of people with extraordinary powers and issues was even harder.

With world, he can lock himself out in his apartment and stay isolated, but with the Avengers he has to be the strong, all-mighty leader... And sometimes he hates being that.

He hates being the one to pull the strings, to keep everyone in line and to be their support.

Sometimes he needed someone to be his support and backbone.

"Sir, and why do we have a meeting, if I may know?" He asked, politely as always, as the man on the other side of the line waited for him to speak.

"You will see. Just be at the Stark Tower in three hours."

With that, the line went dead and Steve continued staring at the phone with empty look in his eyes.

Tons of thoughts filled his mind, but after pushing them back into the dark corners of his mind, he snapped out of that mood and started packing his stuff, not wanting to waste any more time or come in late and ruin his reputation.

Glancing at the clock on the table a few feet away from him and calculating how much time he would need to get to the Stark Tower, he decided to take a quick shower and pack only the needed things.

Something deep inside him told him that he would be needing the clothes for a few days.

The sun moved lazily over the horizon and by the time he was done, two hours had passed and he was driving towards the Stark Tower. The now busy streets were filled with traffic but he enjoyed the free time when his mind could wonder around, taking everything in.

But that particular day, something was eating him inside out. He had a bad feeling and his whole gut started spinning since the moment Fury called them in.

It was hard for him to admit that even though he was never the one to disobey the rules, he wanted to skip that meeting so badly. He wanted to stay home, to wallow in self-pity and then to welcome the blissful sleep without dreams.

But the sense of duty and honor was too strong and he found himself on his motor bike before he realized what he did.

The sharp sound of sirens snapped him out of his thoughts and pressing the brakes, he realized he was in front of the Stark Tower.

_Well Steve, here comes nothing._

Taking a deep breath, he parked the bike and taking his beg he reached for the door, entering the massive building and spotting the smiling receptionist.

* * *

"Mr. Stark and the others will come here shortly. Would you like something to drink?"

"No, thank you." Natasha replied shortly and flashed a fake smile to the young employee who smiled back at her kindly and skipped over to the elevator, going back to her work-place.

The smile dropped from her face as the young woman got out of her sight and she collapsed on the couch, rubbing her sore shoulder with a slight grimace on her face.

The bruises and cuts ,that were now safely wrapped with bandages, were fresh, only a few hours old.

You can imagine her reaction when Fury called her after a mission and inquired her presence on the meeting.

It included a lot of swearing. In Russian.

She closed her eyes for a second, after determining that no one was near, and a sigh escaped her lips. She tried to hold her mask on all the time, but after the whole invasion thing, it only got harder.

She was more aware of her emotions, such as love, anger.. fear.

She can say for sure that for the first time in her life she was afraid of what might happen on the meeting. And no matter how much she wanted to hide it, the all present feeling of weakness was eating her out.

At a faint sound of footsteps, she snapped her eyes open and her eyes met with Clint's careful one. With one glance they exchanged a silent greeting and he sat next to her, waiting for the others in silence.

The room started filling with people, and of course the one who came the last was Stark, with a glass of scotch in his hand.

"Stark, you're late."

"Hey there, Eye-patch. I had an important meeting, Pepper wouldn't let me skip it so I had to stay." He flashed them a wide smirk and placed himself next to the slightly nervous Bruce Banner. He only cast him a glance and a small smile, which was returned with a faint nod from the nervous doctor.

"Now that we are all here, I have some news for you."

"There is no threat, right Sir?"

"No Rogers, there is no threat. This is about something else." Fury said, his voice becoming quiet at the end as he paused to look at each one of them. Most of them squirmed under his gaze, except for the two trained assassins.

"Well speak up before I fall asleep." Tony's witty comment was hear which earned him a groan and a 'shut up' from a pissed off red haired woman.

Casting one last look towards his new team, Fury closed his eye and took a deep breath.

"From this day on, the six of you will have to..."

They leaned forwards in their seats, waiting for him to finally say it out loud.

"... Live together."

And all hell broke lose.

**A/N: I am so sorry for the late update. Although I had this chapter prepared in my head, I had some family problems and I couldn't write. But I hope I'm back for good. Anyways, I need your opinion. I want to know which POV you would like to read in the next chapter. You can vote for four days (the voting ends at 15 November) because then I have to start writing it. **

**Also, I need at least four review to update. Sorry, but that's the deal. More reviews, faster update.**

**Peace out :) **

**Horizon.**


	3. The beginning of something new

**Chapter 2 : The beginning of something new**

**A/N: I want to thank **_**Amber9**_**, **_**Dark Universe**_**, **_**Andrewthegreat1**_**and **_**Avengers fan **_**for reviewing. You guys made my day. **

**And as some of you voted (and wanted), I made this chapter about Bruce. It's still normal POV but... Oh, you'll see... **

**I hope you guys like this chapter.**

* * *

It was hard to focus with the screaming voices all around him. It seemed like everything was okay in one moment, but then in another one all hell broke lose.

The very second Fury spoke those few words, Tony Stark exploded.

"No, no, no, no, that wasn't the deal, Eye-patch. We were supposed to be an emerg-..." He started complaining over and over again, his voice raised but somehow emotionless, although Bruce knew better. He could see the mixed emotions in Tony's eyes, although no one else seemed to notice that because they were too busy with their own problems and thoughts.

Clint and Natasha were the only 'quiet' ones, only speaking when asked or when someone mentioned their names. And although the two of them were trained to mask their emotions, Bruce could see it written all over their faces that none of them was happy with the decision. He couldn't blame them either.

Steve and Thor, on the other side, seemed confused to a certain point. Thor was simply asking tons of questions about Stark Tower and the reason for such decision while Steve looked like he was sick. His skin looked slightly paler than usual and his eyes were wider than usual, covered with fear and disapproval. But he too wanted to know what the heck made Fury make such a decision.

And Bruce... Well, Bruce was trying to take a few really deep breaths.

The news didn't really please him, and we all know how that usually ends.

He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, counting to ten over and over in his head. His heart rate started slowing down a little, but he could still feel the Hulk sitting under his skin, waiting for a small slip or a careless action.

Being lost in his own mind and breathing, he failed to notice that all the noise stopped. He failed to notice that all eyes were on him and that they were waiting for some kind of reaction from him.

Waiting for him either to snap or calm down.

"Hey Big Guy, you okay?" He heard Tony speak to him in a shushed voice and when he opened his eyes, he was staring at a pair of chocolate brown eyes. It took him a few seconds to find his voice but he managed to flash them a weak smile, masking all the possible weaknesses behind it.

"I-I'm fine." He stuttered out as he failed to keep his emotions in line, his voice being weak and scared at the same level as their eyes.

He didn't miss the way Natasha's hand twitched around the gun and how Steve's muscles tightened as his fists clenched. Almost everyone, expect Tony and Thor, were alarmed, ready to take down the mindless beast. And he was supposed to live with those people.

"Are you sure?" Tony inquired and Bruce could see that he honestly cared for Bruce. Not the damage Hulk might make or the lives he might take... He cared for Bruce and Bruce only.

_No, I must be mistaken. Why would everyone care about me?_

A quiet but always present voice in his head spoke up as he pulled back, away from Tony's warm hand on his shoulder. He didn't miss the way hurt flashed in Tony's eyes, but he soon brushed it off as something Tony didn't mean.

Seeing that as the only opportunity to speak up without being interrupted by his team, Fury spoke.

"You will spend six months together in Stark Tower. No buts, no complains. This way, we are testing if the 'Avengers Initiative' has a future. To work as a team on the battlefield, you need to know each other. Before I came here, I talked to Jarvis..."

"Jarvis, you traitor..." Was Tony's quiet remark, but no one paid attention to it.

"... And Jarvis will inform me if someone refuses to follow the orders. I want you all to have some 'bonding' time and you have to share one meal together. _All _of you. Dismissed."

No one spoke as Fury cast one last glance in their direction before calmly leaving the room. His steady steps were the only thing heard in the room and when the doors closed and he was gone, silence filled the empty space.

Bruce lowered his head, refusing to look at his teammates' faces as tons of thoughts and ideas came to him.

At first, he wanted to run.

He was good at it, he got used to it and he knew that he would be able to pull it off. He was ready to run across the world, just to avoid living with other people.

But then he remembered how easily S.H.I.E.L.D. found him and how Natasha said that 'they never lost him'.

_So why bother?_

_They will find me either way._

"So, I guess I will show you your rooms. Jarvis, could you...?" Tony was the first to speak, his tired voice breaking the silence. He slowly got up, his whole form radiating tiredness as he waved his hand towards the rest of the group and headed for his room or his lab.

No one was quite sure where he was going, but they knew that wherever he was heading to, a glass of some strong alcohol was probably waiting for him there.

And just like that, the group shattered, taking directions from Jarvis to their room and silently thanking him.

"_Dr. Banner, your room is at this floor, first door on the left. Your bags are brought there, and everything you need, please don't hesitate to ask me."_

"Thank you Jarvis." He smiled softly towards the ceiling, not really sure why he did that, and with his hands in his pockets, he moved to his new room.

A tired sigh escaped his lips as he located the doors and took the door knob with one thought on his mind.

_These six months will be awkward and hard._

...He had no idea how right he was.

* * *

The time had passed painfully slow.

He's been in Stark Tower for only a few hours, and he was already prepared to beg Fury to re-think about his decision.

When the group shattered, heading to their own rooms, Bruce locked himself in his room.

The room he got was rather big, with huge windows and king size bed in the middle of it. But besides that, it was empty and... Cold.

Usually, the houses he was living in on his travels were filled with pictured of his host's family, friends or past. This room, on the other side, was plain and empty, without a trace of light and life.

A humorless chuckle escaped his lips as he realized how similar his life was to that room.

Empty and cold.

...

An hour later and he was still bored. He managed to unpack his stuff, check what was new on the TV, look up at Stark's technology and even take a long, long bath. And yet only a few more hours passed.

When he was about to go nuts from boredom, he was saved by the 'bell'. Or rather, a voice.

"_Dr. Banner, I was asked to inform you that the dinner is ready." _Jarvis spoke politely, making Bruce jolt at the new, present voice.

_It will take quite some time to get used to him._

"Thank you Jarvis." Bruce answered in the same polite tone and jumped off of his bed, feeling rather optimistic about the dinner as his stomach growled in response.

But then it hit him.

_I will have to talk to the others. _And in a flash, his mood was gone.

He left his room, making no sound as he closed the door, and dragged his feet all the way to the dining room, where he was met with a sad view.

All five of his teammates were sitting by the table and eating pizza, but they sat as far as they could from each other.

Tony was at the center of the table, with two slices of pizza in his plate and one in his hand. He was eating with his both hands and was looking around him, observing every one of them with a fake grin on his face.

Next to him was Steve, who looked so small in his chair. He was sitting as far as he could from Tony and from time to time he would glare at him and tell his to eat more civilized. He would only get a small grunt in response before he would return to his own meal.

Across the two of them were the assassins, Clint and Natasha. They were both eating in complete silence, but they looked like they were ready to dash off the same second they swallow the last bite of their pizza.

The last person by the table was Thor, with a whole pizza in front of him. A big, sincere grin was on his face as he swallowed slice by slice, making a few comments from time to time. He was the only one happy in that whole scene.

For a stranger, this picture would seem strange but we would soon brush it off as a 'shyness' or something.

But to Bruce, it was much more. He could see every twitch, every emotion and every move they made, and he could easily read how uncomfortable they were.

"Hey Doc, come here, grab a slice before Point Break eats everything." Tony seemed to notice Bruce first and he pushed a plate towards the doctor with a grin on his face.

"Son of Stark, as a Prince of Asgard, I require lots of food, and this... 'Pizza' as you called it is quiet delicious."

"Yeah, yeah..." Tony muttered back, avoiding the argument (which was a first for Tony), before stuffing his face and watching Bruce as he sat down and took two slices of pizza.

Steve back away from Tony even further as he saw the way Tony stuffed his face with two slices of pizza at the same time, and then pushed his plate closer to Thor.

"Here, take mine. I lost my appetite." He said with a grimace on his face as he watched Tony eating like a pig.

After that conversation, no one spoke again. They all ate in silence, if you don't count the sound of chewing, and as someone would finish their meal, they would excuse themselves and leave the room.

Soon, one by one, they all left the table and the Tower became deadly quiet again, leaving only Tony and Bruce behind.

"So, I am off to finish some lab work. And tomorrow, Bruce-y Boy, I will show you the 'Candy Land'." Tony made a funny face as he mentioned his lab, aka the 'Candy Land' and Bruce chuckled lightly at his antiques. He watched as Tony stood up, throwing his paper plate into the can with a single move.

"Sure thing Tony. Good night."

"'Night!" Tony waved over his shoulder and stepping into the elevator, he was gone too.

The deadly silence filled the room and seeing no other thing to do, Bruce got up and headed for his room. The second he was left alone, that fake smile left his face and a tired frown formed on his lips.

As the time passed, the whole idea bothered him even more.

_If the dinner was this awkward, I can only imagine how everything else will be. _

And deep inside, he knew that it won't change. At least not in the next two months.

He sighed sadly as he brushed his hair out of his face, passing by the living room and heading towards his bed room again.

As he was passing through the hallway, he glanced up and caught his own reflection in the mirror. Staring at it for a second, he could only see a tired man who was too exhausted to even walk.

But as he was about to walk away, a flash of green caught his eye. A faint trace of green appeared in his eyes and he looked away violently, feeling his whole body tense.

He clenched his fists and hurried into his room, hoping that the following night will be calm and peaceful.

...

Little did he know that at night, everyone's demons would come out to haunt them...

...

That night, no one slept.

**A/N: I hope you like it. As I said before, I need four reviews if you want me to update. And I have a question. Would you like the next chapter to be concentrated on Bruce, or on all of them?**

**Lemme know what you think and want.**

**Horizon :)  
**


	4. Broken and disfunctional

**Chapter 3 : Broken and dysfunctional  
**

**A/N: I would like to thank everyone who reviewed my last chapter: **_**Avengers Fan**_**,**_** Linzerj**_**,**_** Radwoman**_**,**_** Web of Obsidian**_**,**_** Dark Universe **_**and **_**Andrewthegreat1**_**. You guys made my day. Also, I apologize for the shorter chapter, and I have to say that this is not my best work. But trust me, the next chapter will be much better. **

**Without further delay, let's move onto the next chapter, shall we?**

_I don't know when I got the idea to start a 'journal' because I was never good with words._

_Yet, here I am, with an empty notebook, a new purple pencil and a mind filled with thoughts, emotions and problem that need to be dealt with._

_...This can help me deal with it, right?_

_Maybe it will help me deal with the constant fear, nuisance and feeling of not being able to control him... to control __**it**__...?_

_Then again, maybe this is just a waste of time._

_Maybe it won't help me... But what else can I do but try?_

_...It seems that that's the only thing I ever do. _

_Try._

_And never succeed._

_Bruce Banner_

* * *

_**We're all in this alone.**_

Many would disagree with these words.

Many would say that we are not alone in this big world. They would say that we have family, friends, lovers and even enemies.

But if you think about it, if you really think about it, you realize that we are really all alone it _this_, whatever _this _is.

Not everyone will feel that loneliness. Some people have those dear to them, to help them cope with cruelness and emptiness.

Yet, there are those who are not that fortune. Those who were abandoned, who had no one to rely on, who were truly, really... all alone.

The time in Stark Tower passed slowly and painfully. Three days after the whole 'moving in' thing, and nothing changed. There was no improvement in their behavior, bonding and getting used to having someone to rely on.

And it was all because each one of them was alone, or used to be alone. They didn't know about other way of living. They only knew about loneliness and solitude, and it was hard to get used to having someone you can talk to or let them watch your back.

But they had no idea how crazy things will get in the near future, and that they will need someone they can lean on.

* * *

The whole S.H.I.E.L.D base was in chaos. Groups of agents were rushing around, obeying the orders and doing their best to help in any way.

In the middle of that chaos, a single figure was standing out. He was dressed in black, with his hands on the computer screens and an eye patch covering one of his eyes. His face was pulled into a serious grimace, but to a trained eye there was something far bigger behind that grimace.

Nick Fury was furious.

"Sir, do you think it's a good idea to call the Avengers? They still didn't-..."

"I know, Agent Hill, but if the situation continues like this, we will have no choice but to call them. We cannot risk the safety of the world for their bonding time. But that's not the priority now. I want Team 1 and 2 working on the civilians and hostages, while Team 3 tried to take down the enemy." Without casting a glance at the arriving agent he typed something into the computer and watched as the screen changed, showing the various news feeds of the whole event.

"Team 1 and 2 are on the line, Sir, but we have a problem. Team 3 is off the radar. We can't find them and there is a possibility we lost all contact with them."

"Damn it! Tell Team 1 and 2 to search for Team 3 when they secure the civilians. If we don't fix the situation in a few hours, we are calling the Avengers."

"Yes Sir!" With one last glance towards the Director, agent Hill dashed away from the scene, shouting for other agents to follower her, while the thoughts in her mind flashed at the speed of light.

_If the situation continues like this, we will need the Avengers._

_But will they be ready?_

* * *

His days became monotone.

Get up, eat something, go to lab, work until late in the evening and then go to sleep or just continue working until your eyes burn and your whole body screams for rest and sleep.

That was pretty much it. And he was used to it. He loved working on his suit, thinking about new weapons for it and new designs with cool colors.

Yet, it didn't give him any satisfaction.

It was like his mind was too occupied with other things and he couldn't enjoy doing the things he love.

And he was right.

The whole situation in the Tower, with his new guests, was getting to him. The constant pressure of having to smile, joke and be cheerful around them was making him tired, and all his free time was spent on sleeping and recovering so he can pretend to be happy for one more day.

Usually, he would have to pretend only to a few persons, like his employees and his other workers. And sometimes he even had to pretend in front of Pepper because he didn't want to worry her even more.

But he always knew that he had a safe place, his own sanctuary where he can be himself, where he can stop pretending, stop smiling and just be what he wants to be. Even if that means drowning his sorrow in some expensive alcohol.

"_Sir, Director Fury is on the line, asking for you." _Jarvis interrupted his train of thoughts and Tony jolted at the sudden voice present in the room. His eyes focused on the screen in front of him, as his mind wondered off a few minutes ago, and he saw Fury's name on the screen.

"I got it Jarvis." He said quietly, barely audible for the A.I. to hear it and he answered the call.

"Eye-patch! How can I help you?" In a second his voice became cheerful, but that mood didn't reach his eyes. He was too tired to mask it and he was thankful that he was alone in his lab, and not actually in front of Nick Fury.

"_Stark, we need you to come it."_

He was surprised by that statement.

When he returned the call, he expected Fury to complain about how slow their progress is (or rather non-existing), to yell at him for some prank he did or to just complain, like he usually did.

But the seriousness in his voice made Tony freeze for a second.

"What for?"

"_Situation with hostages. The enemy is a scientis gone mad. He closed his whole lab and threatened to let out a deadly virus. We sent three teams, two returned. One is lost."_

"And you need us for..?"

"_Find the team. Rescue them and bring the enemy to us."_

Tony wanted to decline. He wanted to argue, to yell, to say that he has other things to do. But a part of him wanted to help.

After the whole thing with the nuke and him almost dying, something snapped in him. He suddenly wanted to help. He wanted to be the hero, although he knew he wasn't one.

He was nothing, but he wanted to pretend. He wanted to pretend that he can be a hero like others. Even for a small amount of time.

"I will tell the others. We will be at the helicarrier in an hour."

Before he could realize that he just said, the line went dead and he continued to stare at the small phone.

He had just agreed to go on a mission.

And he did it in the name of the whole team.

* * *

Surprisingly, it all went smooth.

Or as smooth as it can go with a bunch of dysfunctional people.

Tony immediately gathered them all in the living room and told them the news.

And as he expected, they weren't pleased.

It took them twenty to stop yelling at each other and finally move. Each one of them had their own doubts, but somehow, they managed to put that aside, for others' sake.

Bruce seemed to be the one who disliked the idea the most as he had a moment of pure panic when they asked him to come too. He kept repeating that they won't need a 'mindless beast that only causes chaos'. But with a few kind words from Steve, they all gathered their stuff and in an hour they were in the meeting room at the helicarrier.

It took them only about fifteen minutes to get the mission info and soon they found themselves suited up and on the plane as they were being transported to the last place where the enemy was seen.

They were scattered across the plane, lost in their own thoughts as they waited for the arrival on the scene.

In the far corner of the plane, Bruce was sitting on the ground with his glasses off, in his lap, and his eyes shut tightly. His chest were rising and falling slowly and steadily, and from time to time he ould crack one eye open and glance at his teammates, before going back to his breathing exercise.

Tony was pacing back and forwards in his suit, with his visor opened and his face pulled into a frown as he listened to Cap's endless ranting. It was clear that the good, old Captain was getting on his nerves, but surprisingly he managed to control himself.

The two assassins were sitting on a bench in their own corner, sitting still and in silence as they played with their weapons and kept an eye on the rest of the team, while Thor stared at his hammer with a lost look in his eyes.

They didn't speak the single word as they left the tower and they all kept their distance from each other, only nodding or smiling falsely at someone's words or joke.

The complete silence lasted through the whole flight, until Captain got up, and fixing his shield said:

"Suit up. We arrived."

**A/N: Well, there. I think I can do much better, but for some reason this was painful for me to write. But I promise the next chapter will be much better. This was just a little introduction, and from the next chapter the whole story will develop and the things will start moving.  
**

**Please review because reviews make me happy and give me will to write! :D**

**Horizon.**


	5. Failure

**Chapter 4 : Failure**

**A/N: Yo, long time no see! I apologize for being away for this long. School and real life was really hard these few months, and I just couldn't find time to write. But now that it's over, I am back for goof.**

**As always, I would like to thank **_**Web of Obsidian**_**, **_**Dark Universe**_**, **_**Andrewthegreat1**_** and **_**Avengers Fan **_**for reviewing. It's always nice to hear that someone likes your work. Without further delay, next chapter. **

**And Marry Christmas to everyone! :D**

* * *

_It's never a nice feeling when you let someone down. _

_Someone would think that after all those failures I made, all those deaths I caused and places I ruined, I would get used to it. _

_But you can never get used to failing._

_When we arrived at the destination and when they all suited up, except for me, we were determined to be quick, to save those agents and to get home into out layers, our safe zones._

_What we didn't know was that we were to damaged and dysfunctional to work together._

_Our minds were wrapped around our problems, and because of that we failed. _

_It all lead us to the disaster that could have been avoided. _

_But we were just too stupid to see it._

_Bruce Banner._

* * *

As a team leader, he felt as an utter and complete failure.

Instead of being the one to hold the team together, like a glue, he couldn't see that they were slowly drifting apart and that it can only lead to a disaster.

He quietly observed his teammates as they drove in a jet, not one of them speaking a single word since they settled down in the back of the plane.

When his eyes fell on the figure of Natasha Romanoff who was clenching her left side, trying to easy the pain on her broken ribs, or when he glanced at Stark who removed his ruined Iron man suit only to reveal a huge cut across his forearm, something inside Captain Steve Rogers clenched painfully.

The whole team was a mess, each one of them in their own corner, as always, but this time tiredness and exhaustion washed over them, making them look more vulnerable than usual.

And for a second, Steve had to ask himself a question...

_**Were they even ready to be an actual team...?**_

Sadly, he knew the answer.

_**No.**_

_~Flashback~_

"_Stark, the incoming enemy is heading your way!" Steve yelled over their comm. link, swinging his hand and sending another enemy into the wall, the sound of bones cracking filling the dark place. _

_He spun around, sending a kick into the enemy's stomach, but receiving a strong punch into his face that made him stumble backwards. _

_He tripped over his own feet, but soon regained the balance, wiping the trail of blood from his chin with his free hand._

_He couldn't find any of his teammates around as they scattered the same second they stepped the foot on the land and suited up. He did try to keep them together or in groups of two, but seeing as they brushed his words off and headed into their own directions, he gave up. _

_Later, he realized he shouldn't have given up, but it was too late. _

_No one was around him and soon he found himself fighting against bunch of enemies._

_It didn't pass much time before he finished his part of deal, punching the last enemy and making his lifeless body hit the ground._

"_My work is done. Does anyone need assistance?" He tried to ask once again, hoping that he would get a different answer this time._

_The silence on the other side was painful, and just as he was about to give up and search for others, a stained voice was heard from the other side._

_**:: Cap.. I found.. The agents... East side of the mansion, basement... Huge.. Gray doors... ::**_

_The voice of Natasha Romanoff was heard from the other side, followed with a painful scream mixed with her panting and hard breathing._

"_Natasha? Are you there? What's your condition?" _

_He gained no answer as the other side of the line went dead._

_In a flash, he picked up his shield and following the simple instruction he got, he launched himself towards Natasha's location._

_Passing through the corridors and hallways, he ignored the sound of battles and the painful screams that filled the place. His mind was focused on finding his fallen comrade, and nothing else._

_In a few seconds, he found himself in front of the huge grey doors, and before waiting or checking if someone was there, he pushed the doors open and entered the dark room._

_There was no light there, except for a small flash light on the floor. The room smelled awful, the scent of blood, sweat and death mixed together with no windows or fresh air to let it all out._

"_Natasha?" He all but whispered, his voice breaking a little as another shiver passed though his body._

"_O-... Over.. h-here..." A quiet, pained voice whispered from the far corner of the room and as he focused on the direction of the voice, he noticed a glimpse of red on the floor._

_It took him a second to reach her, finding the injured Natasha on the floor, with her hand pressed on her ribs._

"_Cap.."_

"_Hey, are you okay? How bad does it hurt..."_

"_It's not that bad, I've had worse injuries, bu-..."_

"_It's okay.. Where are the agent?" He asked the question quietly, as if he was afraid of the answer. And the look in her eyes didn't help at all._

"_They.. T-They are all.. D-Dead."_

_It was then when he noticed the blood on the floor._

_~End of the flashback~_

"Captain, we arrived."

The pilot informed them quietly and Steve snapped from his thoughts as he realized that the others already moved towards the helicarrier.

With a sad sigh, he picked up his shield and hurried after them, trying to catch up although he didn't want to go there.

Neither one of them wanted to enter the helicarrier.

They were all aware of the fact that they screwed up.

And that Fury won't be happy.

* * *

The sun was slowly setting down behind the horizon, coloring the sky in beautiful purple and baby blue color.

The silence outside the helicarrier matched the one in the meeting room as all six of them sat in silence, their eyes pointed on their hands on the ground.

At the center of the room, Nick Fury was standing with his hands in his pockets and his his back turned towards his team.

If they could be called a 'team'.

He stared into the distance, his mind going over his choices and decisions.

Lately, he started questioning himself a lot. Did he made a right choice in calling them in?

Was it a good idea to make them live together or was it a really bad choice?

So many questions, and no answers to any of them.

He turned around to face his team and he found them all quiet, each one of them staring in the opposite direction of him, and their teammates.

They were ashamed, they realized what they did.

They realized that they failed.

_~Flashback~_

"_Captain? Stark?" Fury yelled in his comm. link, but only silence waited for him on the others end. The whole fact of him not having a way to contact them was killing him, and he was showing it._

"_Is it possible that there is no way for us to get a connection with them although we have all this fucking equipment?"_

_The agents around his scattered, trying their best not to piss him off further as they tried to fix the comm. link that was clearly blocked by the enemies' equipment._

_Exactly two hours ago, Nick Fury lost contact with his team. The last thing he heard was that there was tons of enemies, but all of them were humans, so it should've been easy._

_But then, as an explosion happened, the link went dead, and since then, Fury had no idea what happened with his team._

_He gripped the table he was standing next to, his fingers leaving a trail in the plastic. The vein on his forehead appeared and a few agents pulled back, afraid that they might die when Fury explodes._

_Thankfully, Maria Hill appeared._

"_Sir..."_

"_Yes?" He said, his voice cold as ice, but when he noticed the grim expression on Hill's face, he let go of the table and turned around to completely face her._

"_The Avengers are done, they are in the jet on the way here?"_

"_And?"_

"_They.. killed all the enemies, destroyed the base and weapons that were stolen." _

_He noticed that she was avoiding to answer him straight, so he decided to be direct, although he feared he knew the answer._

"_Was the mission successful? Did they save the agents?"_

_By the silence after his question, he realized the answer._

"_Mission... Failed."_

_~End of the flashback~_

"You are all dismissed." Fury finally spoke spoke in a disappointed tone and turned around, heading towards the exit with Agent Hill following his lead.

He didn't spare another glance towards his team as he passed the bunch of agents and headed to his own office.

That day, the whole base mourned and everything was quiet.

* * *

The moon already settled across the sky, being the only light in the dark night.

That night at the Stark Tower seemed darker than the previous nights as the silence filled the whole place.

As they returned from the helicarrier, they didn't speak. They just went in their separate ways, heading towards the darkness and solitude of their rooms.

Neither one of them could sleep as the burning guilt clenched their hearts, making it hard to breath.

Maybe they didn't know those agents.

But they didn't have to.

A life is a life, and every life is worth saving.

The thing is that they failed to save those lives.

In the middle of the night, a figure moved through the Tower. His dark form was slowly moving across the living room, his hands in his pockets and his head lowered down as he dragged his feet across the room.

It was clear that he couldn't sleep that night, that the nightmares were too much, that the guilt was preventing him from entering the blissful land of no dreams.

He entered the kitchen and turned the lights on, barely suppressing the scream in his throat as he noticed that someone was already in the kitchen.

Taking a step forwards, he brushed a few curly locks out of his eyes and removing his glasses with his free hand. It seemed that the person by the table didn't hear him as he was lost in his thoughts and problems.

"What are you doing here?" He asked quietly and the person slowly looked up, meeting the doctor's brown eyes.

* * *

**A/N: Finally, the things will get going soon. **

**Anyways, reviews make me happy!**

**See ya soon :D**

**Horizon.**


	6. The Birth of new Hope

**Chapter 5 : The Birth of new Hope**

**A/N: Not my best work but the next one will be better. I apologize for all the mistakes I made, too. Also, thank you **_**Dark Universe**_**, **_**Andrewthegreat1**_**, **_**A Guest**_** and **_**Madde91 **_**for reviewing. I am always glad to hear that someone likes my work. Thanks a lot. Oh, and reviews are welcome.**

**Without delay, enjoy.**

* * *

_When I walked into the kitchen, I didn't expect to find him there._

_I was aware of the fact that every single one of us was haunted by our own demons, but never in my life I expected to be the one who can help him with it._

_Truth to be told, I was never good with feelings. Since I was little, I had no one to talk to about them because my family situation wasn't the best. Plus, I was always a shy and antisocial person.  
_

_And then there I was, talking to a person who needed someone next to him to give him an advice and to help him out of the dark. There were tons of questions in my mind.  
_

_Will I be good enough? Will I be able to help him or will I just make it worse and destroy another life? _

_I realized that only time will show, but for now I decided to try._

_After all, he shouldn't feel guilt because in the end, he was forced to kill the ones close to him. _

_Not like me who killed because of my own mistake._

_Bruce Banner  
_

* * *

What are you doing here?" He asked quietly and the person slowly looked up, meeting the doctor's brown eyes. The man by the table shifted uncomfortably, gripping the mug tighter as he moved his eyes from the newly arrived doctor.

The dark circles around his eyes caught Bruce's attention as he slowly moved to the sink, his every step slow and calculated as he tried not to alarm the tensed agent.

"Couldn't sleep. Got down here, grabbed something to eat and then you came." The voice was flat, almost lifeless, as he took another sip of water and winced slightly as Bruce dropped the spoon into the sink. The clinging noise was the only thing that echoed through the room, making the both of them wince.

They were both clearly tensed and every little sound would made them jump and search for the source of danger.

Bruce quietly made a cup of tea, trying not to interrupt the peace that the archer was trying to achieve in the dark room.

"Want a cup of tea?" He asked quietly, almost fearfully, his back turned towards the table where Clint was sitting. He took a sip of hot liquid and enjoyed as it slid down his throat and calmed the extremely nervous Hulk under his skin.

During those dark nights, when the nightmares haunt his mind, the Hulk was always there, under his skin, ready to break free.

"No, thanks man." The tone that Clint used told him that all the archer wanted was to be left alone, and it was all he needed to leave.

"In that case, sweet dreams." The words left his mouth before he could register them, and before he had an opportunity to apologize, Clint nodded in respond and shifted his gaze from the doctor to the food in his plate that was still untouched.

Bruce let out a shaky sigh as he fixed his glasses and grabbing a few cookies from the table, he moved to the lab to try and tire himself until he can no longer see.

Passing slowly by the crouched agent, he awkwardly patted him on the shoulder and continued his route until Clint's reaction caught his mind.

As the timid doctor patted Clint's shoulder, the agent let out a small yelp of surprise and gripped the glass he was holding, making it break under the pressure and cut through his skin. Blood started dripping from the wounds on his hand while the T-shirt he was wearing gained a huge red stain of blood where the wound was.

Seeing that amount of blood and the newly formed cuts on Clint's hand, Bruce didn't waste any time as he sprinted to the cupboard and pulled out some sort of material. He didn't pay attention on the origin of that material as he pressed it on Clint's hand, making the said agent wince.

"Damn it Clint! Follow me." Bruce shifted into his doctor mode and without waiting, pulled Clint away from the table and dragged him to the lab. He didn't pay attention as Jarvis called his name, he just pulled Clint into the elevator and pressed the button.

The elevator ride was awkward and uncomfortable but as soon as the doors opened, Bruce pulled him out and in a minute Clint found himself in one of Stark's labs.

He tried to take his mind off the pain as he examined all the chemicals and technology that was in the room, but as he felt the scent of alcohol, his head snapped back to Bruce.

"I will have to clean the wounds on your hand. Open it."

"Bruce, it's ok-.."

"Open it now."

Clint looked up into doctor's eyes and as he noticed a glimpse of green in Bruce's eyes, he decided not to endanger everyone in the building and opened the hand.

It only took a few minutes for Bruce to clean it and wrap some bandages around it, making sure that the wounds stay sterilized and clean.

"Now remove the shirt." Bruce demanded in a tone that wasn't too kind and having no strength to argue, Clint obeyed and removed the shirt soaked with blood. He slowly turned around and froze when he heard Bruce gasp and then moved at top speed.

"God, Clint, why didn't you say anything?" He whispered as he took the needed equipment to sew the wound close, but his mind was still occupied with the fact that he failed to see how badly Clint was injured on the mission.

While Bruce worked on the wound, Clint didn't know what to say as he tried not to make any sound when the needle pierced his skin or when Bruce started cleaning the wound with alcohol.

To Clint's relief, the doctor had steady hands and he was fast so the whole action didn't last long and Clint didn't even notice when the whole thing was over.

"I'm done. You need to let it heal. No pressure on the wound or the whole shoulder."

"Got it, doc."

"I'm serious Clint. Don't re-open the wound." The tired voice said and Clint turned around to watch Bruce's tired form clean the blood from the table and threw away the gauze. His eyes were half open and his whole form was exhausted, but he still managed to help Clint.

_He helped me even though I don't deserve it._

"I'm sorry."

Those simple words left his mouth before he realized it, but Bruce already heard them and stared at Clint with a confused look on his face.

"Huh?"

"I said I'm sorry."

"I heard that, but I am not sure why are you apologizing."

"For making a mess... Interrupting you free time."

"Clint, don't be ridiculous. You are my teammate and I am glad I could help yo-..."

"But I don't deserve it."

Silence hung in the air as Clint shifted uncomfortably in his chair, suddenly finding his fingers more interesting than the doctor besides him. He didn't look up as he heard a sigh and a few steps, but then nothing.

He thought that Bruce had left because there was no sound around him, but then he heard a chair being moved and just as he looked up, he saw Bruce taking a seat next to him and removing his glasses while brushing his hair out of his eyes.

"And may I know why do you think you don't deserve my help?" Bruce's voice was calm and soothing, not agreeing to Clint's previous statement. The kind smile on his face distracted Clint for a second before he shook his head and returned to staring at his hands.

"Because I caused all that mess..."

"What mess?"

"I killed all those agents, I destroyed the helicarrier..."

...

"Well, as far as I know, that wasn't you. That was Loki."

Clint's head snapped in doctor's direction as those words echoed through the room.

For the first time since they moved in, Bruce was able to see all the emotions on archer's face.

The sadness, guilt and overwhelming pain were clear in his eyes as he stared at Bruce, still not believing his words.

Bruce knew exactly how bad Clint felt.

He, himself, spent countless nights thinking about the lives he took, but never in his life he had a person to help him through all that.

And one thing he swore to do, on those dark nights, was to help whomever needed his help. He would do anything to help the ones who are lost in darkness, just to help them avoid the feelings he felt on those occasions.

He glanced at Clint as he stared into the distance, his eyes lost in his thoughts, but even then you could see the lack of dreams and hope for life in them.

There was no hope, no will for life.

That was something no one should feel.

"Here, come with me. I want to show you something."

Without waiting for Clint to get up, Bruce moved from the chair and entered the elevator because he knew that Clint would follow. No matter how sad or hurt he was, he knew that curiosity would get the best of him.

And so he walked.

He left the building, asking Jarvis not to alarm anyone and that they would be back soon.

Then, he just walked.

Left, right, wait for the traffic to turn green...

And through all that walking he didn't speak a word. He just listened to the quiet footsteps behind him and with a small smile on his face he continued walking.

"Where are we going?" After five minutes Clint asked quietly, as if he was afraid to interrupt Bruce's train of thoughts or the silence that ruled around them.

"You will s-.. Ah, we arrived."

They stopped.

The distant sound of the traffic was the only sound in the night as the two of them stopped. Clint stopped next to Bruce and observed the look in Bruce's eyes, without looking where they actually were.

While they were walking, Clint noticed that the streets they passed lead only to one place.

The place where everything happened.

The street where all six of them, for the first time stood next to each other, turned back to back, as a team. Where they were ready to give their lives to save the world that was falling apart around them.

That was the place where they stood for the first time as the 'Avengers'.

"Why are we here Bruce?" He asked as the doctor only stared in front of him. For the first time since they arrived there he noticed that sad smile on doctor's face, and as he couldn't hold his curiosity any more, he followed Bruce's gaze and when he noticed what Bruce was staring at, his eyes widened.

"What.. is that?"

"It has different meanings for each person.. For some, it is a memory.. For some it is a place where they can mourn, and for some it is a place where they can remember the ones that died with smiles on their faces."

"But what is that...?" Clint asked, pointing on a board with the names of most of the Avengers, along with the pictures and messages. He didn't read any of the messages as he could only stare at the 'monument' in front of him with candles surrounding it.

Bruce stared at the lights of the candles, but his eyes weren't focused on that. He was somewhere else, lost in the memory or a thought.

"That is some sort of monument for their heroes, the ones that saved them."

"You mean...?"

"Yes. That is a monument for the Avengers... For Iron man, Captain America... And for you, too."


	7. Not everything is the way you see it

**Chapter 6: Not everything is the way you see it**

**A/N: … I am lazy, I know... I am so sorry for leaving you guys for so long! God, I am such an awful person.**

**But I am planning on changing that! Hopefully... So, without further ranting, enjoy.**

**P.S. I would like to thank **_**Andrewthegreat1**__**, **__**special agent Ali**__**, **__**Guest **_**and **_**Dark Universe **_**for reviewing. Also, a big thank you to those who placed my story as a 'favorite' or on their 'alert list'…. Oh, and a thank you for the ones just read my story. You guys are awesome. **

**Okay, I'm done now.**

* * *

_Guilt. _

_The feeling that keeps you awake at nights, invading your dreams and thoughts every chance it can._

_The burning pain that with time can only become stronger if we decide to do nothing about it, to make it smaller or just easier to live with._

_Guilt is good sometimes._

_It lets you know that you are still human, that you can still **feel, **and as long as you feel guilt, you can call yourself a human being._

_But sometimes, we feel guilt that we shouldn't. _

_We feel guilt for the actions that we couldn't change, couldn't predict and that had nothing to do with us. _

_And yet, we feel it. _

_It's eating us alive, and because there is nothing we can do to make it right, it burns us completely in the end, turning us into ashes._

_And we can only hope for that one person who will be strong enough to help us realize that the guilt we felt wasn't ours to feel. _

_Just that one person, one voice of reason and wisdom to erase it all and set us free._

_Some of us meet that person and in the end they get a chance to live freely and in peace with ourselves once again, just like they should have, from the very beginning._

_Yet…_

_Some of us never get that chance._

_Bruce Banner._

* * *

Bruce stared at the lights of the candles, but his eyes weren't focused on that. He was somewhere else, lost in a memory or a thought. His voice was soft as he spoke, the words being only slightly louder than the whisper of the wind.

"That is some sort of a monument for their heroes, the ones that saved them."

"You mean...?"

"Yes. That is a monument for the Avengers... For Iron man, Captain America... And for you, too."

In the silence of the night, it seemed as everything stopped for a moment.

The time stopped flowing, the noises died out, and only soft breeze blew, making no sound on its way between the two man standing silently in the middle of the street.

Thousands of thoughts flashed through Clint's mind but he didn't try to catch them. The pictures of his days under Loki's control, all the people he killed, agents that he tried to hurt... It all played in his mind but just as suddenly as they came, the pictures were being washed away by the messages and photographs on the strange monument in front of them.

His body moved on its own towards the wall covered with papers and pictures from the people they never met, and yet they… _worshiped them_ like they were some kind of Gods.

A strange emotion enveloped his heart at the encouraging messages on the wall. He was so fascinated by the amount of them that he almost forgot the quiet doctor that was standing next to him.

"Do you see it now?"

"See what?" He asked quietly as if he was afraid to break the harmony of the night. He didn't notice when he approached the monument completely, but he hesitantly touched the stuffed toys, little hawks and spiders mainly, and a small but genuine smile found its way to his face.

"Do you see that you are not the bad guy?"

A soft touch on his shoulder sent him to action and although he knew that it was only Bruce, he still jolted from the touch and in a second moved as far away as he could from the hand that was previously on his shoulder.

"Bruce, they don't know what I did. They don't know that I killed people, that I led the enemy into the base and helped them kill more people that they would kill without me." His voice was stained with desperation and pain, the lump in his throat reappearing again and making it hard to swallow, and even breathe.

He was a damn assassin, and he could barely keep his emotions under control.

Out of shame, he lowered his gaze, feeling the stare on the back of his head and thinking that Bruce probably realized that he was right and that he will leave him there and confirm his worst fears and nightmares.

That he was truly a Monster.

But then, Bruce just sighed and chuckled.

"God, Clint, you are so stubborn sometimes."

Clint's head jolted up, his blue eyes going wide from shock as he finally made contact with Bruce and found him smiling softly.

_Smiling. _

"Huh?" was the only 'intelligent' thing that came to his mind as he watched Bruce shake his head with a soft smile on his face.

"Oh Clint…."

"What?"

"You are making me angry."

Now that Clint didn't expect. A surprised chuckle left his mouth but in a second, he sobered up as the hint of green flashed through Bruce's eyes, but settled with brown once again as he smiled almost sympathetically at him.

"Listen to me, and listen closely, Clint, because I will only say this once and I need you to really hear me out. You. Are not. A bad. Person.  
You did kill people, but it wasn't your fault. You need to remember the first thing you did when you were compromised. Yes, I read the report on what happened that day, when Loki touched you with his scepter. You could have killed Fury right then and there, by shooting him in the head. But you didn't, Clint. You knew he always wears the bullet-proof jacket and you knew that he will survive, so you aimed for his heart. Not the head, the heart."

"Bruce, you can't know f-…"

"I can. And I_ know_. You are a good person. You saved us numerous times that day. You fell from a building to help us, you always had out back during that fight and no matter how hard you want to present yourself as a bad guy, you will always be a true Avenger. To us, and to them, too, you are a hero Clint. The famous Hawkeye, the man who saved the world. Don't you ever forget that. "

By the time Bruce finished talking, Clint was staring at him with his eyes wide open. He wasn't sure what shocked him the most: the amount of the words that the quiet Doctor just said, the choice of the words and encouragement he heard in them or the fact that deep down in his heart something... changed.

Something small, insignificant to others but to him it gave a new spark of… something he couldn't quite name... For a moment, he actually felt like he could forgive himself one day and move on.

And that feeling didn't start fading away.

The pressure on his shoulder that appeared at one moment was gone in the other one and the presence beside him vanished without him even noticing. He chuckled to himself quietly.

He had to admit it to Bruce, the man surely knew how to sneak out from a scene.

Throwing one last glance towards the monument, he caught the glimpse of a stuffed animal, a hawk, standing next to the drawing of the bow and arrow that probably were supposed to look like his. Below that child's picture was a note, clearly written by the same child because the letters were huge and red, and every one of them was bigger than the previous one and messier.

But that didn't seem as important as the simple message that the paper held.

One short sentence, two words, eight letters... A simple _**thank you**_**.**

Without glancing back at that place, he started walking back to the Stark Tower, watching as the street slowly started waking up.

The sun peeked over the horizon and started its journey, coloring the sky in warm yellow and light orange.

The sunrise was always Clint's favorite part of the day, because it held so much hope. It was so pure and clean, something he couldn't say for himself, and he remembered that he couldn't enjoy that sight for the past few months of his life.

But at that very moment, he could see every single color, every single shade the sun created… and he enjoyed it.

A warm smile spread on his face as he finally named the feeling that was born in his heart.

_Hope._

* * *

The days that came to Stark tower had a new glow surrounding them.

To an untrained eye, nothing would seem different or special. The team still barely talked, the time they spent was still minimal and there were no 'movie nights' or funny times.

But to the ones who knew where to look, who knew how to look below the surface, they would see it.

They would see the change in one of them and the care he gave. The way he would make two coffees and then take one to Natasha's room when she was in the shower, or the way he avoided the pop tarts because he knew that Thor loved them. He even acted calmer around Stark and his jokes were lighter, brighter and... happier.

It wasn't fast, and it certainly wasn't a big change, but it was a start. And it was all Clint needed.

The day after their little talk, the things between Bruce and Clint changed. There were no uncomfortable silences, shifting gazes and trying to get away from each other as fast as they could.

The change started with a small 'good morning' and an informal chat, but at the end of the day Two, they found themselves talking about everything and nothing from time to time, relaxed and comfortable in each others company. The comments they received from the team about their behavior were brushed off as a 'change of heart' and 'seeing that the whole thing might not be that bad'.

But only two of them knew the impact of that conversation, and Clint will be forever grateful for what Bruce did.

And to thank him, he decided to do one thing he was the best at.

_Watching from the height and protecting the ones close to him._

* * *

It hurt her to admit that she was a little jealous.

She knew that she shouldn't be, but that aching feeling in her heart reminded her that he had something that she didn't. That he achieved something what she longed for, but it seemed that _it_ always managed to slip away from her and escape further away.

And little by little, she watched him interact with others, watched him _open up to them._ He laughed a little louder, he joked more frequently and he was constantly near the Doctor, as if watching over him in some way.

Yes, Natasha Romanoff was jealous.

Because why should Clint be so peaceful when she was suffering inside?!

...

No, it's wrong. She shouldn't think about it like that, she knew that.

She should be happy for him because he deserved it. He deserves the best and he is her best friend, for God's sake!

She should be happy, thrilled!

... So she tried to be like that.

She kept to herself and masked her feelings with one of the masks she perfected with time, watching him from afar as he slowly relaxed, as his face became more peaceful, as his laugh-lines became more visible...

As he moved on.

But with every day, she was getting worse.

All those emotions that were supposed to be locked in a box and thrown away, in the back of her mind, somehow resurfaced and she found herself drowning.

Drowning from the amount of them and from their intensity because she never had to deal with them. Or at least not on her own.

_Slowly, Natasha Romanoff was drowning, and there was no one to safe her._


	8. Secrets we keep and lies that we tell

**Chapter 7: Secrets we keep and lies that we tell**

**A/N: Wow, I managed to make this chapter a little longer.**

**Anyways, a biiiiiig thank you to **_**Radwoman**_**,**_** Novrier**_**,**_** Andrewthegreat1**_** and**_** Dark Universe**_** for reviewing the previous chapter, and a big thank you to all that placed my story on their 'story alerts' or 'favorite' list. **

**And thanks to those who just read it, too.  
**

**You all guys rock! ;)**

**Also a little warning: some characters might seem a little OOC. I mean, I don't mind it, but if you find them slightly OOC, I apologize. Still, I think I have a strong reason to make them like that :)**

* * *

_I never thought that I'd start liking this whole 'journal' thing but with time I found myself writing about the things I couldn't say out loud._

_It was easier to put it all on a paper that would never see another person but me, than to talk to someone who can tell my secrets to others, on purpose or by accident._

_Because you know, people do that._

_People aim to hurt you with the things they know. _

_They gather information from others, and sometimes even from you as they trick you with kind words and fake smiles._

_And every information they got on you is safely stored in their brain, waiting for an opportunity. A perfect moment when they can strike a low blow and kick you while you're down._

_That's why I stopped trusting._

_Better safe than sorry, right?_

_I mean, it was always easier for me to be alone than to have someone who can stab you in the back when you turn around._

_And I was fine like that for a while, I really was._

_But then, without noticing when it happened, someone found a way around my walls. Their mighty structure apparently had a leak because before I knew it, I had a friend._

_… Maybe a word 'friend' is too strong, but I know that somehow, I found myself caring._

_And to tell you the truth, it was frightening._

_Bruce Banner._

* * *

_**How desperate are you that you would call upon such lost creatures to defend you?**_

_She squirmed at the emotionless voice that filled the space, whispering right into her ear as the hot breath danced on her skin, making her shiver slightly. The darkness around her was thick, but the sounds coming from it were... unnatural and wild._

**_You would trade a whole planet for the life of one person? What does he owe you?_**

_The wind hit her, sending the scent of blood into her face. She could feel the awful taste on her tongue as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat..._

_It tasted like _**Death.**

**_Can you? Can you get out that much red? Vanko, Turenov, Romanoff. Barton told me everything..._**

_The tears that she tried to keep at bay were slowly fighting her control as the voice continued, the evil amusement clear in it._

_All her secrets, all the painful things she tried to get away from... they were so close to being revealed to the world, to others._

_She can't take it._

_Knowing that with one word he can show everything she tried to bury away, that he can bring back the horrors she tried to forget... it was too much._

_The fear, the bittersweet fear raised in her chest, creating a strong grip around her heart and making her every heartbeat painful and loud._

_She could hear them in her head, along with her shallow breathing._

**_Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red, and you think saving a man no less virtuous than yourself will change anything?!_**

How dare he say that about Clint?!,_ she thought. The fear was now being mixed with anger, the hot, boiling rage that came from the bottom of her heart, from that darkest part of her soul._

_How dare he talk about Clint at all, after all he has done?!_

_But she knows that he doesn't care. _

_He has no conscious, he feels no guilt._

_He is not a human being, after all._

**A monster.**

**_This is the basest sentimentality. This is a child at prayer... PATHETIC!_**

_The shout sends her backwards, making her collapse on her knees from the impact. The raw power, in a form of shadows, was launched towards her and it wrapped itself around her wrists and ankles, tying her to that place, that very spot, so she can hear the rest of his words even though she wanted to run, to just get away from it._

**_You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers. You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horror._**

It's not true, it's not true!, _She repeated it over and over in her head, well aware of the burning tears that slid down her cheeks and chin and then fell into the darkness that never ended. The shadows gripped her tighter, moving slowly towards her elbows and knees, swallowing her limbs and making them disappear in all that blackness._

**_But they are a part of you, and they will never go away._**

_He was bringing it up again and again. Like a reminder, like a painful reminder that she wanted to burn and destroy, but she couldn't!_

_The shadows were now moving over her stomach, making a hole in it that grew and grew, eating her up slowly but surely._

**_I won't touch Barton. Not until I make him kill you._**

_A sob that she wasn't aware of echoed through the dark, followed by a cackle so deep and evil that even the toughest assassins would break when hearing it._

_He sounded so dark, and yet so familiar..._

_… Like _**pain.**

**_Slowly, intimately, in every way he knows you fear._**

No... No, no, no, please... Someone, anyone...

**_And then he'll wake just long enough to see his good work and when he screams... I'll split his skull._**

Please, someone just HELP ME!

**_This is MY bargain, you mewling quim!_**

NO!

The scream escaped her lips as she jolted awake, her fists clenching the sheets so tightly, her knuckles completely white and complaining under the pressure. The drops of sweat slid down her neck and cheeks, soaking her shirt while her hair was completely stuck to her face and cheeks.

Her heart was racing faster than ever, and every heartbeat was echoing in her head, along with the shallow breaths she managed to breath in.

She glanced at the clock on the nightstand beside her, its big, bright red numbers showing 06:00 in the morning.  
Knowing that she won't be getting any more sleep either way, she swung her legs over the edge of her bed and let the cold surface underneath her feet shake off a small amount of tension she felt.

Her every limb screamed from pain. She was sore all over her body, as if she was running the whole night. But after the nightmare she just had, she would rather choose running over it any time a day.

She took off her shirt and threw it towards the small chair in the corner of the room and stepped into the huge bathroom, immediately heading towards the shower.

The second her skin came in contact with the ice-cold water, she could find herself breathing again.

Although the constant noise of the running water wasn't enough to keep her mind occupied, she still tried to push away the words from the dream.

Was it possible that the great Black Widow, the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s top agent and best assassin, was finally sent over the edge?

_No, not possible._

She shook her head at her silly thoughts and turned off the water, just to find the same iron grip around her heart and lungs, making every breath painful.

She somehow stumbled to the sink and griping its edges, she looked up into her reflection.

The wet hair that was stuck to her skin, the drops of water traveling down her back, the pale, smooth skin of her face, the empty, haunted eyes...

"Natasha, you up?" The strong knocking on the door snapped her out of the trance, making her jolt and knock over a small bottle of perfume towards the bathroom floor, making the whole contest spill onto the tiles.

She cursed under her breath and quickly exited the bathroom, snatching the bathrobe from the chair and wrapping it around herself before answering the door.

"What do you want?" She snapped almost immediately as she opened the door, catching the intruder as he was about to knock on her door again, probably with even more force.

"Why so ang-... Hey, do you have anything underneath that robe?"

"Clint, I swear to God, this better be good or I'll kill you with my bare hands." Her eyes narrowed as she followed his eyes that traveled all over her body until it settled onto her eyes with a sheepish look in them.

"Sorry. What was I supposed to tell you... Oh yeah! Fury called, said that we should be ready in an hour, he's sending us to some conference or something."

"What conference?" She asked, this time her voice slightly softer as she let him in and headed for the bathroom with her clothes in her hand. From the corner of her eye she could see Clint finding a place on her bad and placing himself there, while observing the surrounding and various things in the room.

"Have no idea. He said it's a press conference, and he called all the Avengers so I assume that it has something to do with the whole 'alien invasion'. I overheard that the press and the President are unsure of what to think about us, are we good or bad, and the best thing to do now is to set it all clear, I guess." She listened to his voice as she slipped into the casual clothes, the faded jeans and some shirt, with a leather jacket over it and the high combat boots.

Sparing only a second to look over her reflection in the mirror, she emerged from the bathroom and slipping her gun into its holster, hiding it from the curious glares, and she finally turned around to face Clint properly.

"So we all have to go? Even Hulk.. I mean, Bruce?"

"Yep. The rest of the team is in the kitchen, having their breakfast. I'll save you some pancakes if you want...?"

At her nod he got up in a flash and disappeared behind the corner, leaving her alone with her thoughts for a moment or two.

Natasha glanced around the room, the coldness off its walls reminding her of her dream. The shiver that traveled through her body shook her to the core as a shallow breath escaped her lips.

The words, so fresh in her mind, played over and over, never letting the fear go away.

_**You lie and kill in the service of liars and killers...**_

_**Can you get out that much red?!**_

_**Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red!**_

_"Agent Romanoff, agent Barton said, quote, 'Get your ass down here, Nat!'. He sounded really impatient."_ Jarvis said, in his usual accent, yet a dose of desperation and tiredness could be heard if you listen closely.

But, his words were enough to snap Natasha out of the state she was. It seemed like she couldn't shake off the venomous words.

"Thank you Jarvis, I'll be right there."

_"Very well, I shall inform agent Barton before he decides to visit you again."_

And with that, Natasha Romanoff left the room, but not without the words, so filled with venom and hate, echoing in her mind.

* * *

An hour later and the team was set and ready to go. Tony, being the generous self, offered his cars, and after a few minutes of arguing which car will be driven by who, three cars left the Stark Tower towards their destination.

It wasn't long after that the cars stopped in front of a huge building, and for the first time that day the Avengers could see the seriousness of the situation.

Thousands of press, fans and other people gathered around the entrance of the building, huge signs all over the place, covering every flat surface on the façade.

The words of encouragement and gratitude, but also the angry accusings, filled with rage and pain, it all flashed in front of Natasha's eyes, along with the flashlights of the impatient reporters and their cameras.

"No one mentioned that there will be this much people. Hulk hates crowds, this won't end well." The timid voice of Bruce Banner echoed thought the car for the first time since they left the Tower, making his two passengers turn around to look at him.

"Don't worry Big Guy, we are here with you. Nothing will happen, right 'Tasha?" Clint answered, his hand rubbing Bruce's shoulder as his eyes rested on hers, begging her to confirm his words.

She can't deny that the careless touch hurt her a little, but as a true assassin, she never showed it.

"Yes. Everything will be fine, Doc."

"... Why did I ever agree with this?"

"Because you love it! Now let's go!" Clint yelled, a little to enthusiastically, and opened the door.

The chaos began.

"Mr. Barton, are you the 'Hawkeye'?"

"Mrs. Romanoff, is it true that you are the famous 'Black Widow'?"

"Doctor Banner, how did you get yourself into the Avengers thing?"

The journalist didn't give them a second to regain their balance as they exited the cars, but instead decided to attack them as soon as possible. The endless amount of questions was being thrown at them and even though they intended to stay together, soon they were surrounded by a crowd of people and in the end they got separated.

Seeing that there was no other way through the crowd than to answer the questions and push through a little at a time, Natasha braced herself and started answering the questions one by one, hoping for it to end soon, without incidents.

Unfortunately, life had some other plans.

* * *

A little time passed.

Only ten minutes later, Natasha managed to push her way through the crowd and to the entrance, and just as she was about to yank the doors open and step into the cold, _empty_ hallway, a shout, coming from behind her, made her freeze in her tracks.

"Miss Romanoff, do you regret killing all those people?" The question only sounded casual but Natasha heard the evil glint in it, as if daring her to answer, taunting her to make a mistake.

Her immediate instinct was to run. Her muscles started flexing, her fists clenched, but she tried her best not to let the instinct take over.

Yet, she failed to remove all the emotions out of her voice.

"What do you mean?" She noticed the silence around her and how all the journalists seemed to be more interested into this particular question than the other ones that they've been asking for the past fifteen minutes, but her eyes were concentrated on the brown-haired press who smirked evilly at her.

"Well, my resources informed me about the amount of missions you did and I know that at each mission there has to be a target. So how do you feel about it? How do you sleep at night?"

"I don't think it's important for this interview-..."

"But it is. Because the next question would be how could the Avengers have a member of their team who killed that many people as you did, when they are supposed to be the good guys? It doesn't sound logical, right?" The press advanced forwards, the malicious grin growing on his face as he watched the color drain from her face.

Her body froze completely. Her hands clenched even harder, her knuckles going completely white, but this time her eyes betrayed a small part of fear she felt.

The questions from her dream came back as a flashback, and soon everything in front of her disappeared in a blur, and she found herself in the dark again.

_**You lie and kill...**_

"Natasha...?"

_**...how could the Avengers have someone who killed that many people on their team...**_

"Agent Romanoff?"

_**You pretend to be separate, to have your own code... But they are a part of you, and they will never go away.**_

"Natasha!" A hand on her shoulder made her wince and with a gasp her eyes widened and she was back to reality.

She blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room that she found herself in.

She had no idea how she got into the building but she was grateful to whomever took her there.

That thought reminded her off the light pressure on her shoulder and she looked up only to find a pair of warm brown eyes staring at her with light, but still a worry she wasn't used to.

"Are you okay?" His tone was light and stained with worry, but she couldn't ignore the faint green on his hands and neck.

"Um, yeah, I'm... fine." It took her a few seconds to find her voice and regain her posture, the cold mask slipping onto her face all too easy.

After all, she had years of practice.

"Okay, if you say so. Just, let me know if you don't feel well.. Um, if you want, of course." Bruce stammered the sentence and released her shoulder as a ginger woman approached him and asked them to follow her to the room next door.

Natasha released a breath she was holding in, happy that Bruce didn't press any further. She was glad that he understood that she doesn't want to talk about it, and she was genuinely touched by the worry he showed. They weren't even friends, and he noticed the distress she felt.

She followed Bruce and the over excited woman as they passed through the hallway and the huge doors.

When they entered the room, she realized that the others were already there and her eyes immediately fell onto Clint.

_Clint, who didn't even notice her._

Jealousy and anger ignited in her, and even though she knew how to control them, at that very moment, she couldn't help it.

Seeing him so happy, talking to a bunch of screaming fan girls was too much for her after the incident that happened only a few minutes ago or the dream she had that night.

It burnt her that he didn't even notice her discomfort and that he didn't pay attention to her at all, even though they did everything together.

All the times he ignored her and all the canceled meetings flashed in her mind, and the anger and jealousy turned into the agonizing pain.

_He didn't care._

_He moved on._

_He didn't need her anymore._

Her inner battle was interrupted by a feminine voice and the conference began.

Everyone slipped into their roles, and so did she, and no one noticed anything.

No one noticed the slight glittering of her eyes and the redness in her cheeks.

_No one noticed her breaking._

That night, a figure left the Stark Tower around two a.m., a backpack on her back and all her prized possessions with her.

Her step was firm, determined, but her breathing was ragged, her lips were slightly parted and her eyes were shining from tears under the moonlight.

But she kept walking, not turning back.

**She walked away, never to return again.**

* * *

**A/N: A short question: do you want me to make this into a light ClintXNatasha (like, a background couple) or should I show the relationship between them as a strong friendship? Opinions are appreciated! :D**


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